Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing, and am making no money off of this fic.

AN: Written for the February 1st Cocktail Party prompt found here: gwcocktailfriday . tumblr .com(/)post/182398699396/cocktail-friday-post-responses-on-friday-febuary. (Without the spaces and parentheses.)

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Let It (Not) Snow by luvsanime02

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"Isn't it spring yet?" Quatre asks, trying not to sound grumpy, but mostly failing.

Noin gives him a surprised look. "It's barely a month into winter," she says. She looks perfectly at ease in jeans and an oversized sweater that she has to have stolen from Zechs, while sipping what looks to Quatre like an iced tea.

It's much too cold out for iced tea. Quatre doesn't understand people. He definitely doesn't understand people who like the cold. No, those kinds of people are incomprehensible to him.

"It needs to be over now," he mutters, burrowing deeper into his coat. That he's wearing inside. Because it's cold, and people keep on opening and closing the front doors when they come in, and a draft of freezing air whips through the room every time. Why isn't there a nice, warm fireplace in this room? That seems like a huge architectural oversight on someone's part.

Noin smiles. "This is pretty warm weather compared to the holiday trips my parents were fond of," she says, reminiscing. "They wanted to go skiing every year, of course, and nothing would do but the Alps." Quatre tries not to react, but the look on his face must clearly show his horror, because Noin laughs. "It's really not all that bad once you get used to it," she reassures. Quatre remains skeptical.

"I'll stick to not being an icicle, thanks," he says. Quatre's hands are already buried inside his coat pockets, but still feel frozen, and he's debating leaving the main room and trying to find some blankets. He's sure that Noin and Zechs have at least a few around somewhere.

"Having a hot drink helps, too," Noin says, sipping from her glass again. Oh, so it's not iced tea. That's a little better. Quatre's relieved that she's drinking something warm, at least.

And now that she mentions it, some hot chocolate would be heaven right about now. It's also an excuse to get him out of this drafty room. "Good idea," he says. "Excuse me."

Quatre leaves Noin and ventures into the kitchen, determined to find Zechs's stash of gourmet chocolate. He's not settling for ordinary cocoa right now. No, if he has to be cold, then Quatre's going to get some enjoyment out of this party. And since Zechs is the host, it's only fair that he provides for his guests.

With that perfectly reasonable logic in mind, Quatre opens the first cupboard and starts searching, already feeling a little bit better.